


Evanuris

by KoiFishQueen



Series: Serranas [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan (Dragon Age), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 11:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoiFishQueen/pseuds/KoiFishQueen
Summary: Every villain has a story, every hero, a humble beginning. It was the age of Arlathan. A time when life was dripping with magic and no one knew of death. On paper, it was a utopia. In actuality, it was no different than the world of chaos we know today. This is where the long and tragic story of our hero and villain begins.





	Evanuris

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovely readers, this will be a short introduction. This series ive planned out will have a lot of shexy time, but also some.....not so shexy times. note the tagged warning. I'll be sure to mark every chapter that has explicit content. This is also a prequel to DAI, and the entirety of the Dragon Age games. I'm so excited to share this with you I've spent a LONG time thinking and planning this series (there will be about 3 to 4 more books, one of them being a modern au type) and I've always wanted to write a fanfic about Solas  
Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy! - Alaina  
*** This book is on hold as I work on my other one, I decided to switch the order about of when I write these :p soooo check out "Antecedent" instead.

"Perhaps it's best we have lost knowledge of these pagan rites. The "deities" that the old elves worshipped, if they existed at all, were clearly demons masquerading as higher powers. One shudders to think of what went on before their thrones. "- From an essay by Atronus of Antiva, scholar and naturalist to the Antivan royal court

Before the fall, before the veil, before the loss. There was life. A life I knew well. There was peace. A peace I thought, would last a lifetime. I was young then, and hopelessly naive.  
Shall we start at the beginning?

Back in the age of Arlathan, the world teemed with ethereal life, the air itself was thick with the feel of magic. Being alive then was electric, the world was brighter, the people were far more complex, the power one could wield was unimaginable, yet within the grasp of their fingertips. Life knew no end. To the naked eye, one would see a Utopian dream they’d never wish to wake from. However, if you closed your eyes you could feel the tension in the atmosphere. Chaos was imminent, it crackled in the air around you, it showed in the rot that skimmed the edge of Flora, and it was apparent in the manner of peaceful beasts. They lived with one eye open, sensing the balance of the world was on the precipice of breaking. Some had not remedied their ignorance of such corruption until it was too late.

It was one fine mid-morning, when the sky was exceptionally beautiful and devoid of clouds, that we find our protagonist. There she sat, on the soft golden sand; her long strands of fair colored hair floated above her, intertwining with the reeds. Upon her face was a large bubble-like mask that covered her nose and mouth. Without it, she would not be able to hide in the cove at the bottom of the lake as she always does when they play hide and seek. Serranas never considered herself more clever than her peers, but she’d been using her trick for years, and none managed to find her crafty little hiding spot.

Except for one.

But he was not the seeker for this game, so she knew it would be hours before she’d finally decide to slip from the waters and make her way back to the square. If not to gloat, then to at least let her friends know she is safe and going home for the day.  
It wasn’t unusual for a simple game of Hide and Seek to take hours. Her friends were all smart in their ways and had unique talents they’d use to their advantage.

Andruil would take the shape of a Hawk and would usually be found in the hidey holes of trees. Serranas had her to thank for her calloused feet that gave a good grip for climbing.

Ghilan’nain would never be far from Andruil, in her Halla form she wouldn’t so much as hide as she would scout the area for Andruil. When she was successful in spotting the seeker in time she’d give a call and the bird would take flight, finding a new spot to watch from above. Sometimes it was quite hard to distinguish Ghilan’nain from other Halla, and one would have to be proficient in lurking in the shadows to get past her.

Serranas supposed Dirthamen was the best at doing so. Often he gloated at his abilities to “pick the feather of the Hawk before she’d even known he was there.” Dirthamen was always one of the last to be found as well, he was so quiet and fast on his feet; he never stayed in one place for too long. It helped that he had the Ravens to feed him information as well.

Serranas was admittedly, a much better hider than she was a seeker.

Perhaps it was Falon’Din’s pity that kept him from putting a solid effort into hiding from her, for he was always the first to be found, and always the closest from the starting point. The spots he’d choose were simple and fit for a game of children’s skillsets. He’d be in shallow dens in the forests or behind average sized rock formations. Once she’d found him idly standing behind a tree, his arms, and legs pinned tight to his sides as if that’d make him much harder to spot. Another time, she found him lying beneath a bench in the grotto’s gazebo, napping. She was furious at his lazy attempt, claiming he insulted not only her abilities but her worth amongst the group and her intelligence as well.

He spent a month making apologies to her, and always she would respond the same, “It’d do you more good to spend your time treating me as your equal rather than groveling at my feet.” With Falon’Din she was always unforgiving and quick-tempered. Something about his acquiescent nature, and the way she’d catch him staring at her for too long. As though he were the ground beneath her, and she was the blessed footsteps.

Despite her usual lack of success as the seeker, sometimes she’d be lucky enough to find her friends, and though it was with the best of her efforts, usually it seemed as though she’d simply stumbled upon them. 

There was one who vexed her to no end, however. He was the same person who always seemed to know where she was, while all she’d catch of him, was his illusionary magic. Indeed, Solas was by far the most cunning of them all. Though he knew Serranas best and used it to his advantage. Solas had the rare ability to create images out of pure magic. Mostly they were of a wisp-like material, but if he congregated enough power, his images would take a physical form. Before him, such abilities were unheard of, and after his current couple hundred years of existence, no other has shown the skill.

When it came to their games, Solas would go to great lengths and find much amusement in tricking his friends. Once, knowing how much of a glutton Serranas is for rare plant species, he conjured a flower in the forest she was searching. She noticed it out of the corner of her eye from it’s glowing red and orange petals. The stem was of a deeper red that twisted and was covered in thorns. The flower seemed as though it emanated fire. She’d never seen anything like it and was entranced the moment she’d laid eyes on it. Her feet took her to the mysterious flora in a scurry and before her mind had even a chance to comprehend the movement, she was bending down to touch it. The moment she touched the petal with her fingertips the flower exploded into a cloud of dust that stung her eyes and burned her throat. She ran out of the forest in a fit of coughing and eyes watering, as she did so she could have sworn she’d heard the sounds of laughter.

The tricks did not end on the playing field. Ever since the day Serranas’ mother brought Solas, a dirty orphan in tattered clothing, to their home, he’d frequently plagued her with his childish pranks. From Horned Toad wakeup calls to coloring the fur of her favored Hart green. He’d proven to be relentless in her torment.

Often Serranas would complain to her mother, to which she would chuckle wistfully and say “To be young. I wonder my dear if you truly do not find joy in his humorous attentions.”

Serranas would always stomp off in frustration. The worst of it was, she wasn’t even frustrated with her mother, nor Solas. It was with herself and the truth of her Mother’s words. Before Solas, she’d been lonely. She had no Father, and Mother was at the palace most days conducting her “Courtly Duties.” Often, Serranas would find herself alone skipping stones in the garden pond or sketching pictures of landscapes and plant life. Yes, she was grateful for Solas, more so than she would ever admit to him.

A fish playfully nipped at Serranas’ fingers, pulling her away from her train of thoughts. She giggled at the attention-seeking fish. “Oh alright!” she exclaimed, “You may have my full attention now.” Using her magic, she formed ice flakes on the tips of her fingers. The flakes lifted from them and floated upwards, causing the fish to swim to each flake in haste before opening its mouth to consume them. She smiled in amusement. “You’re getting quite fast at this. Have you been practicing?” She teased before stroking the underbelly of the fish. It swished its tail back and forth in the excitement of her praise.

She stayed that way for the next couple of hours, playing games with her underwater friends. The fish would swim races and the otters would compete in the “whose scavenged shell would float to the bottom fastest,” competition. Suddenly, in the midst of all of their fun, a shadow cast over them, causing her friends to flee in fear. Serranas readied herself to fight, thinking it may have been the Water Wyvern, back again to harass her friends. She’d thought it had learned its lesson last time, but alas, prideful beasts are quite stubborn in their admittance of mistakes.

Then there was a large splash. It stirred the sand in front of her forming a cloud that obscured her vision, she squinted her eyes so as not to have granules of sand in them. She saw a dark form maneuvering through the bubbles and felt something grab her sides firmly, pulling her up to the surface in a blur. She panicked and struggled to get out of its grip. For a moment she thought the Wyvern had become brave enough to try and take her to its lair, where it would make a meal out of her. But she realized the grip on her sides had no claws. Once she broke the surface she was able to get a look at her captor. Light golden skin, strong jaw, eyes of clouded blue. This was no Water Wyvern. This person was someone far more petulant and disruptive. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Solas.” She hissed in annoyance. “What is the meaning of this? You are not the seeker. Have you made a deal with Dirthamen? Are you outing me to the enemy?” She tried to push away from him but she could not escape his steel grip. He laughed at her hostility, it was a deep and jubilant laugh that never failed to make her toes curl and her stomach tighten.  
“Fear not young maiden!” he replied in a mocking tone. “The enemy has surrendered. You are safe within my arms.” It was then that she noticed his lack of dress. There he stood along the banks of the lake, in nothing but his undergarments. Serranas felt her face flush with heat. As children, they’d played in the lake wearing less than what he was now. But the dreams.

Oh, the dreams she’d been having as of late. She hid her face in his chest as though looking into her eyes would reveal the things she’d been doing in her slumber. The actions were unprecedented and completely inappropriate. She vividly remembers how her skin burned where his fingertips traced, and the seductive things he’d said to her. She could still feel his breath on her ear, hot and wanting, and his eyes. His beautiful eyes had been so filled with desire. It was a dream of course, but it had felt so real.  
She realized with a start, that she actually could feel his breath on her ear. She lifted her head from his bare chest and looked up at him. With a sense of déjà vu, she noted his eyes. Surely she was mistaken, but they had looked like the eyes that held her in her dreams each night. And their noses, they were practically touching! Now his breath fell on her lips and she began to feel something coil within her, spreading an intense heat along each inch of her body.

“Are you alright?” Solas all but panted, “You’re clinging to me as if your life depends on it.” Serranas quickly loosened her grip around his back, realizing she was, indeed, clinging to him. Her words came out in a rush. “The Water Wyvern. He’d frightened my friends and me again.” She can’t remember a time she’d ever lied to Solas, she’d always been a terrible liar. As it was, she could barely make eye contact with him as she hesitantly lifted her gaze. His eyes were uncertain and searching, he could practically smell the lie coming from her, but he wouldn’t push her. She was always honest, so he supposed she had a good reason to stray from the truth just this time. Whatever was bothering her must have been serious though, as he’d never seen her act this vulnerable. His protective nature over her came into play as he tightened his arms around her and lowered his head into the crook of her neck.

“Would you like me to show it a piece of my mind?” he mumbled against her skin. “I won’t let that grumpy old thing bother you again.” She shook her head quickly. “No! No, that’s quite alright. It is as you said, he is just a grumpy old thing. He doesn’t often act on his sour moods, so I shall look past it just this once.” She felt his deep chuckle vibrate against her neck. It took everything in her power to keep the whimper in her throat from surfacing. When had this happened? When had she found this boy, no, this man to be so alluring to her?

“Such a merciful goddess. On behalf of the grumpy beasts, we are humbled by your kindness.” He teased and despite her struggle for composure, she laughed lightly. She ignored the disappointment she felt when Solas unraveled his arms from her and took a step back. Serranas could not ignore, however, the sudden cold that came with the absence of his body heat. It did not help that she was soaked from head to toe. Due to the spontaneity of this Hide and Seek game, she was dressed impractically for a swim, but her determination to win had her acting against her better judgment. So there she stood, in the sheer white gown of her ritual dress, of which she was wearing earlier as she rehearsed for her coming of age ceremony. The dress was made of light material and, upon discovery, terribly sheer when wet.

With Solas no longer attached to her body, he was able to see her full appearance. He was taken by surprise at the full force of desire that hit him and the sudden tightness of his pants. The gown she wore was practically see-through and he could see her rosy-peaked nipples. The wet material clung to her and accentuated the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Her eyes were half-lidded and her face was flushed. Before his eyes stood a woman, and he wanted her, so much so that it frightened him.  
He’d been a member of the court for a while now, and as a result, had been with many women. But never had he felt this raw lust, this—hunger for someone. What frightened him, even more, was that he was sure this feeling had been there for a long time, lying dormant and waiting for the right time to surface. This was, by all means, not the right time. He mentally declared it’d never be the right time. Never. Not with her. He couldn’t.

He won't.

With an awkward clearing of his throat, he raised his hands and willed his magic to dry Serranas, erasing the sight that almost compelled him to pounce on her as a wolf might do to a halla. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his predatory gaze.

She had.

But both parties were content with ignoring the matter altogether. With another clearing of his throat, surely by now, she must think he’s acting strange, he said “Well, I suppose it’s time I make my way to the Vir Dithara, your lessons for the day have finished, correct?” He asked a little more stoically than usual. She shook her head warily. He continued. “Then I shall trust you can manage to make it home safely?” He’d barely let her finish saying the word Yes before he all but ran to his destination.

Serranas stood there unmoving, completely mortified, and immensely confused.


End file.
